


why can't you just forget about algebra

by sandyk



Category: Fringe (TV)
Genre: F/M, Set during S1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: If Olivia could turn back time, she would go back and say yes to Charlie's invitation for Christmas eve instead of spending time with the Bishops.





	why can't you just forget about algebra

**Author's Note:**

> Title and opening quote from A Camp's Algebra. Not mine, no profit garnered.

_Why can't you just forget about algebra_  
_It's all about you now_

 

"Of course, this is a traditional Jewish cookie and the Bischoffs weren't Jewish. I don't think they were, but that's the sort of skeleton in the closet that generation would keep," Walter said, while he moved around the lab table, pointing at cookies and pastries and what Olivia dearly hoped was a ham. It looked like a ham, it looked delicious. But she didn't trust Walter. She'd known him four months. It was long enough to know Walter didn't think about other people when he cooked. 

"What really matters is the mother, wise Jewish rules, the mother determines if the child is Jewish. My mother wasn't Jewish," Walter said. "Was she?"

"I have no idea," Peter said, obviously weary and annoyed. It was obvious because it was always his mood.

If Olivia could turn back time, she would go back and say yes to Charlie's invitation for Christmas eve.

She said, "You can look it up. The internet."

"Everything's on the internet," Walter said, loudly.

Peter said, "That sounds like something I could be doing besides listening to you, so I'm on it."

Olivia poked the ham. "Is this really ham?"

"Of course it is," Walter said.

"She wants to know if it's from a pig and if you did anything to it," Peter said.

"Of course it's from a pig," Walter said. "I had Aslan buy it for me."

"He really did," Peter said. "I saw *Astrid* bring it from the store." He was grinning at the screen. "You know what, Walter? According to this genealogy website, your mother's maiden name was Goldfarb, changed to Kohl when she was twenty before she met your father. So you are Jewish."

"Belly would be so happy," Walter said. "He's Jewish, you know. Does he let that get into his biography still?"

"He doesn't hide it," Olivia said. The ham was really good.

"Of course, my mother doesn't matter for you, son," Walter said. "I don't believe Elizabeth was Jewish at all, so that's no Hannukkah rugelach for you!" Walter cackled.

Before Walter threatened her, Olivia had some rugelach. It looked like a very fat, very pale croissant. It was delicious.

Peter said, "What a surprise, you barely remember anything about her. Her mother was Jewish. She told me and you more more than once. I'll have all the rugelach I want."

Olivia ate in the corner while the two of them bickered. When Walter traipsed off for "more refreshment," Peter looked down at his plate, his jaw set and his breathing very deliberate. She wondered if she'd missed anything or it was from the part she'd heard about Peter's mother.

Olivia said, "The rugelach is very good."

"He can cook," Peter said. "Why are you spending Christmas with us?"

Olivia didn't smile. "I was worried you might kill him if I left you two alone."

"Oh, we've moved past that," Peter said. "I'd never hurt dear old Dad."

She rolled her eyes. Peter smiled and sat down next to her. "How about a gift?"

This close, she could smell the liquor on Peter's breath. She was pretty sure she knew what the gift would be. He leaned in and kissed her and she let him. He sat back and said, "Was it bad?"

"It was fine," Olivia said. "I don't need any more gifts."

"That was not my strongest skill," Peter said. He smiled in a way that reminded her he was dangerous. He made a v with his fingers and wiggled his tongue. "That's my strongest skill."

Olivia thought of a number of things. John, monsters, Walter's experiments. But she said, "Prove it."

Peter got up immediately and said, "Walter, time to go. You need to rest."

Walter mumbled something. He was clearly already high. She went with Peter to her car and got in the driver's seat. Once Peter had settled Walter into the back seat, he got in next to her. She was impressed with his apparent calm.

Peter put Walter to bed and then came out to the hallway of the hotel where Olivia had been waiting. He walked to the room adjoining the Bishops'. He said, "They've been renovating this room for months. The bathroom works, but there's no hot water in the shower. And no heat. But otherwise, it's a great room." He pulled out a box the size of an old walkman with wires and switches. He put it on the key card lock on the door. After a few minutes the box beeped and Peter pushed the door open. "Come on in, I believe I have something to prove."

Olivia actually smiled at that. She sat down on the bed, her feet on the floor. Peter got on his knees in front of her. He slowly removed her shoes with a soft touch. He didn't linger but he didn't rush.

Olivia shivered. Peter sat back and said, "Sorry, I forgot the heater." He pulled a long tube thing out of his jacket and flicked a switch again, it lit up and she felt the heat coming off it.

Olivia said, "You could make money from that kind of thing, right?"

"Do you want me to get another job, Agent Dunham?"

She sighed. "I believe you were proving something."

He reached up and unbuttoned her jeans. He took them off without touching her except the few moments she'd feel the pressure of his fingers on her thigh and then calf and ankle. Olivia knew this was wrong. She shouldn't be repeating her mistakes because she hated backing down from a date. 

Peter didn't take off her underwear. He kissed up her thighs, she felt a small scratch from his cheeks, he ran his fingers around the edge of her underwear, her skin on fire where his fingers and mouth went. He rubbed her between her legs, she was wet through the cotton. He kissed her right hip and cupped her butt with both hands, almost lifting her up. He kept almost getting right under her panties, but never quite touching her labia, or opening her up the way she wanted. Finally, he pulled her underwear to side and licked. She moaned. He went soft with his tongue and fingers and she wanted him so much to speed up then he pulled off her underwear roughly. She was so close to coming. She worried his skill was reading her mind and tensed thinking of how much she wanted not to do that, not to read her. 

He stopped and looked up at her. "Okay?"

She nodded and pushed at his head. 

He spread her legs wider and went gentle again, his tongue and his lips bringing her closer and closer but not quite. She almost came twice and he didn't quite stop and didn't go faster or harder but then finally, finally, his tongue was deep in her and he was touching her and she came and he didn't stop, it was a long long wave. She opened her eyes and her thighs were still shaking.

He was looming over her, his face shiny and his fingers still moving in her oversensitive body. He said, "Well --"

She surged up and kissed him, licking his cheeks then. She liked the taste of pussy. "That was hot," he said.

"If you have a condom, you can fuck me," she said.

"Well, sure," he said. He stood and unzipped his pants. It was still cold two feet outside Peter's makeshift heater. She watched him gripping his dick, jerking off as he looked for the condom.

"Do you bring a lot of your dates here?"

"You're the first," Peter said. "Mostly, I sneak in here to sleep without hearing Walter or being subjected to Walter. I can get a good rest for all of three hours usually before Walter wakes up or starts screaming for me." He put on a condom and came towards the bed.

He was big. She said, "Get on your back."

She pulled down his jeans to his thighs. Olivia wasn't going to risk zippers or denim near her thighs, not after Peter. She was good and wet and open so she spread her legs and slowly lowered herself on his dick. It was good she was so aroused because otherwise it would have taken much longer to take all of him in. She liked it, though, being pushed and stretched open. She felt filled and like she might almost break. She said, "Are you going to do any work?"

"Sure," he said. He held her thighs lightly and started to push up. It was a ride, clenching him tight, hearing him moan, going up and down and up and down and she was close to coming again. He must have sensed it as he reached between them, that thumb on her clit just right. She came and he still hadn't, which would have made her mad. But she was about the most relaxed she'd ever been. He came after her and just grunted.

She got off him and went to the bathroom. He said, "There's no hot water."

She made sure she had a clean towel and turned on the shower. She said, "You forget I was in the military. I can take a cold shower." Not for very long, but enough for her to feel clean.

She got dressed but she balled up her underwear and shoved it in her back pocket. She was hardly going to wear those soaked and half ripped things home. She said to Peter, "You know, since you're sort of Jewish, does that mean you owe me 8 of those gifts? So far I've only had two."

Peter grinned at her. "A great miracle happened there. Agent Dunham made a very bad joke." He kissed her cheek. "Next time we see each other, tell me if you want your remaining six."

She nodded and went one down the hallway to her car as Peter let himself in to his hotel room with Walter.


End file.
